"This is how I want to remember Jeju."

"This is how I want to remember Jeju," my good friend Melissa said out at a tiny island overlooking the coast. We had just paddle boarded for 35 minutes or so to get out to a tiny island off the coast of Jeju, one that I have been looking at for the whole year here. Some of you have also probably seen it in Instagrams and Facebook photos I have posted:



It's that little guy off in the distance, and I've been dreaming of going out to it since I first sat at Lazybox Cafe and saw it all solitary and pretty out there. We decided to paddle board out there, and it was better than I could have imagined.

As I sat on one of those hills on the island, Melissa said, "This is how I want to remember Jeju," and I couldn't agree more.

In a lot of ways, it's been a challenging year. The job itself has been challenging, and sometimes the boys make me want to rip my hair out. I've had to learn to separate the job from the rest of my life, which is often hard to do when the only thing separating your bed from the nearest student is a paper thin wall. I wrote a post earlier in the year about how learning to ride the motorcycle really mirrored my mood and taught me to live in the present; well, crashing it had the same effect. It really brought my mood down and made me long for home. I have had a fear of missing out on the experiences of my college friends to a certain extent all year, and I have days where that's really difficult. I think on a daily basis, I do a good job of shutting all of the negative feelings away, which in itself can be a bit taxing. I've come to accept that life will present you challenges no matter where you are, but when you leave the familiar behind, you have to find a way to lean back on the old and familiar without letting it consume you. You have to lean back on the old and find new people to lean on in your present. I've definitely done that here.

But alas, yesterday was what Jeju is to me. Lifelong friendships, incredible natural beauty that I will most likely not encounter again on a daily basis, finally being out of that miserable cast, feeling all young and free out in the ocean (#blessed), and just knowing that this year was exactly what I wanted and needed for the next step of my life. I feel more prepared for the job in Rome than I would have if I had gone last year. I feel ready for the next step. I feel sad to leave here. I feel fully content, and the butterflies I feel for the future are really pretty butterflies instead of nagging ones.

I don't know that it's in my DNA to stay in one place for a really long time. I think someday it will be. I think when my sister gets married and I have some nieces/nephews running around, I may want to be closer to home. But then again, I could always be the cool uncle who brings back presents from all over the world. Lots of time to consider these things, I suppose. As for now, I've got two and a half weeks left on my little island, and I want to spend them remembering and continuing to realize why I love it here. Thanks for reading.

Honesty, Accountability, and Gratitude

I had a great conversation with my buddy Lucas the other day about how meaningful it is to be honest and to admit mistakes. I'm big on forgiveness, and I don't think there's anything that isn't forgivable. However, I think to be truly able to accept forgiveness, you have to admit wrongdoing, and often, that's easier said than done. Nothing makes me lose respect for someone quicker than if they can never be wrong. Being wrong is part of life, and after working with middle schoolers, I can confidently say that it's a very middle school attitude to think you have to make excuses and forward on blame to others. You're going to mess up, and yeah, that's a little scary, but own up to it when you do. In friendships, in the workplace, and in how we deal with our students here, the ability to take responsibility is imperative.

Honesty and accountability go hand in hand. If I want you to be accountable, I have to be honest with you both about my expectations and if I feel you've done wrong. When people tend to not want to take responsibility, they more often than not lie to get around admitting something. You've got to have one to have the other. I think sometimes it becomes your way of life. I have students here who dedicate whole days to breaking the rules then lying to get out of it. I understand not wanting to get in trouble, but I think if you aren't taught accountability, it's something that sticks with you and will haunt you later in life. I immediately gain more respect for someone if they do something wrong then admit it right away if they're called them on it. Then I have kids here caught redhanded in lies that will try to tell me that I didn't see what was right in front of my face. That's a hard cycle to break once you've started it, and I've met people already in my young professional career in their 20s who just can't help but lie, and it's sad to me.

I tell you all this because it's been really on my brain lately. Whether it's having trouble trusting things with my job, having trouble giving back trust to friends who have broken it, or just being weary to trust people in general, it seems like it's been a theme for the last few weeks. I can't stand maliciously lying and cheating, and it's often for no good reason. If someone tells me a small, insignificant lie, it leads me to wonder what else they might be lying to me about, and that scares me. It scares me because I don't want to hold anything back from people. I don't want to alter the way I am because I'm worried that if I show myself to people they're going to let me down. I don't even remember being double-crossed to the point where I should be so worried about peoples' intentions, yet I find myself paranoid that I'll be swindled or bamboozled. I want to let people be innocent until proven guilty, but sometimes my brain pushes to not give people the benefit of the doubt. People make mistakes, and if I said I was always truthful 100% of the time, everyone knows I would be lying (see what I did there?). I think for some people though, it's a habit.

Alas, for how downer that sounds, life is really good. I have so much to be grateful for I get the cast off in two weeks, and the foot is feeling better. I had to cancel my trip to Nepal, but I think it's for the better. I hear they're kicking out foreign aid workers, and with a bad foot, I would probably just be in the way. Guess I'll just have to go visit my friend Kelly who is living there next year! Lucas, his friend (and now my friend) Matt, and I are threw a giant BBQ this weekend at a really scenic beach and cooked a half hog. We built the pit out of cinder blocks and steel, and assuming we break even, anything left over is going to benefit my medical and legal debts from the accident, which is really incredible of everyone. It's things like this that remind me that people are inherently good. I know there's some psychopaths out there, but the majority of the human race that I encounter means well, and that's pretty awesome. Something stupid happened to me, but out of a broken foot came an awesome BBQ and a great bonding night with my friends here on Jeju.

I think in the worst of situations, there's always some good waiting around the corner. I don't think it's easy to realize the things in your life that you need to be grateful for, and you have to actively be searching for them. It's easy to have bad things happen and wallow in your misery. That's the lazy way, and I've been guilty more than once of feeling sorry for myself over the last few weeks. It's ridiculous. I have it so good, and I have so much to be grateful for. I've learned and grown from the accident, and again, it's provided for some good times, to the point of actually finding the accident kind of funny now. I got hit by a drunken tractor driver in South Korea. I have a feeling I'll be telling that story for quite a while. The best medicine for misfortune that's out of your control is laughing. Life goes on, and I think as I get older, I'm learning how to try to be more positive in general.

Anyway, that's the brain-vomit I've had over the last few days. Only a few more weeks left on Jeju, and then on to the next adventure. As always, thanks for reading.

Depth

There's a lot of word-vomit I could launch out into the interwebs right now, but I'm going to try to do this in an organized fashion, and I think sharing it will help me make sense of it. So, here goes.

I'm talking about the depth of friendships, and how far into yourself you let others see, as well as how far you yourself explore. I've had a few transitions in my life as far as both of these aspects. In grade school and high school, I had the same friends almost all throughout. The guys I hung around are good guys, but we don't keep in touch all that much anymore. I think they see me for who I was in middle school. I don't think they really know me, and I don't really claim to know them anymore. Friendships fizzle. I get that. I think they fizzled because of lack of depth, and whenever I hang out with them as a group when I'm home, I feel like a total outsider. Late in high school, I met a bunch of people on a retreat, and craving the depth I didn't have in other friendships, I gravitated towards them. It had nothing to do with religion; it was just that the retreat setting provided for an initial segue into knowing them better. They shared their experiences on the retreat even though I barely knew them, and I wanted to get to know them better.

I left for college, and I was distraught about not having any truly deep friendships established. I didn't know who I would confide in, who would just sit and wonder about the world with me, or who I would be a source of confidence for. That changed quickly, and in college I formed some of the deepest friendships I have to this day. I tell you that to tell you the mindset I came in to Korea with. I was scared again about not having any deep friendships, but I was confident I would make them happen.

The last few weeks have been trying. Dealing with the physical, legal, and emotional toll of this motorcycle accident has been harder than expected. The earthquake in Nepal has left me with a ticket to Nepal in May and a ruined city. Unsure of how I'll proceed, I'm hoping to go and make a difference, so long as my foot is healed in time. I planned on getting LASIK surgery next week, and I had it all booked, but the costs of the accident have made that infeasible. I have had some missteps with my friends here that have left me down on myself. It just seems like I'm in a bit of a rut right now. I started to examine my friendships here and their depth, and I started to feel like I have only formed a few deep friendships. It started to eat away at me because I wanted to be able to just jump into deeper conversations, but I realized I wasn't feeling comfortable doing so with the people I saw daily. I didn't want to be a burden with my problems, and I didn't want to seem argumentative by talking about social/political ideas on my mind. I was too scared of ruffling feathers and alienating the only support I have during a tough time.

I think I'm over the hump on that. I had to sit down and tell myself that not every conversation has to be mind-altering and thought-provoking (as important as those conversations are), but sometimes just talking with someone about anything at all can be a source of comfort. As I've been more receptive to those littler conversations (read as not holing myself up in my room and being moody), the deeper conversations have happened. I've made some lifelong friends here, and it's comforting to know that.

My future for next year is settled, and that's great. My future beyond that isn't, and it's scary, which is something I shouldn't even be considering. I can barely figure out what I'm doing for lunch, and my brain won't stop trying to think about this big conceptual "future." Grad school, relationships, where I'll settle down, future career/jobs, how I'll continue to travel, what's most important to me and what isn't, and so on. In some way, it didn't feel like much of a transition from college to Korea. I was so thrust into the unknown and forced to adapt that I didn't have time to think about anything but the present, and I'm glad. Now that I'm settled and have a plan for the immediate future, my mind is playing tricks on me and thinking ahead too far.

I don't think I'll ever move home (sorry, Mom). I've been trying to figure out my aversion to going back to where I started, and I think it's just that I feel like I've grown apart from the people that made home what it was. I miss the family and several friends, but for some reason my brain wants to move past St. Louis as a permanent residence. I feel kind of guilty about it. It's been nagging me lately. Plenty of time to stew over it, I suppose!

My friend Cayla, who I studied abroad with in Rome, was here this week visiting from her semester abroad in Vietnam. It was so great to see a familiar face. It was odd to have a connection to home here. All this time, my two worlds have been so separate. I wouldn't expect anyone at home to know much about here, and I don't know much about what goes on at home besides what I see in the news. Just having someone to show around and to understand life here was really great. It's been a good week on that front.

That's about all I have for now. Have a good weekend.

Setbacks

Well, it's been a rough few days. It could be much worse, but nonetheless rough. I was in a motorcycle accident last Thursday, and I broke my foot. I'm wheel chair bound and starting to go a bit stir crazy. My health insurance has covered nothing, and I'm not sure why. Additionally, I found out that one of my best friend's has had his cancer return, and it's spread to his lungs. I'm missing home, and trying to find ways to stay positive.

It's funny how life works like that, isn't it? It seems like I was writing here just recently about how great life was going, and how it seemed like nothing could go wrong. I'm still so stoked for the job in Rome, but there's certainly been a flood of bad news recently.

One of the bright sides to the bad news is the overwhelming response of support I've received. Between coworkers and folks at home, I've really felt the love, and it's tough to be down on life when you know you're so well-supported. I'm playing a show with my guitar at a small cafe in the city on May 1, and there's lots of fun BBQ adventures coming up (perhaps even trying to smoke a whole hog). I think that's one of the keys when life throws you curveballs; you have to make yourself acutely aware of all the fortune you have in your life. Bad news tends to make the happy things harder to see.

I'm starting to realize just how much my brain lets me go crazy over trivial nonsense. I said something last week that offended a coworker, and although she was very forgiving, I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. I still feel guilty about it. I'm trying to be conscious of the fact that I can make mistakes and move on from them without beating myself up about it. I don't know why my brain wants me to dwell on stupid things I say or do and make them out to be character flaws. I'm trying to do my best, and sometimes I just have to remind myself of that.

I suppose this is a post that's more cathartic for me than anything. I've really felt the distance from home these last few days. My coworkers and friends here have been great, but sometimes you just long for people from home, and I've definitely had some lonely moments. That said, I certainly haven't been neglected here. Between Michael, Johanna, and Kathleen who picked me up from my motorcycle accident when I was in a bit of a shock/panic and helped me calm down before taking me to the hospital, Lucas and Nicole Dines who have been running me all over town and being there for me for whatever I need, Tom Hambley who picked me up some medical supplies, and a bunch of other awesome friends who have just been there for moral support, it's been easy to find myself feeling lucky despite the bad luck. No matter what happens to me, I know I'm one of the luckiest guys around on a daily basis.

Please keep my friend who has been re-diagnosed with cancer in your thoughts, prayers, hopes, good vibes, or whatever else you practice giving to those in need. He's a remarkable human, and he's been like a second father and a brother to me. He's one of the strongest men I know, and if anyone's going to give it a hell of a fight, he is. Thank for reading as always, and have a nice week, everyone.

Elation

The last few days have been incomprehensibly incredible. I accepted a job in Rome as a Student Life Assistant at the JFRC for next year. An event I had been planning for several months here in Korea went over incredibly (except for a student's rough injury at the end requiring some stitches, but he's going to be okay!). I had a great night of celebration with one of my best friends here, and today I found out that my sister is engaged! The happiness is overflowing, and it couldn't have come at a better time. It's crazy to me that I only have nine weeks left in Korea, and I'm already starting to feel nostalgic about the people and the places. Things work out for a reason, and this year in Korea has been one of the most formative of my life. I've learned more about myself and the world in these last few months than the rest of my life combined. It's been a glorious ride, and it's far from over. I'm headed to Nepal in May and Australia in June. The weather is getting nice here in Jeju, and beach days are near. There's more to learn, more experiences to be had, and I'm going in with the most peaceful mindset I have had in years. I know that I'm not done with Korea. It's taken a place in my heart, and I will be back someday after I leave for this new adventure.

I'm so lucky. I have been fortunate enough to have so many incredible experiences in my life that many people will never get the opportunity to experience. I have an incredible support system of friends, family, and mentors who treat my success as their own, and it's humbling and uplifting. I called my mom as soon as I found out about the Rome job, and I could hear the happiness to the point of tears in her voice. The amount of messages of congratulations I have received in the last few days has been so awesome. I can't wipe the stupid grin off my face. It just feels like everything is coming together, and I can already see myself thriving in my new position in Rome. Thank you to everyone in my life who has been there for me and helped me get here.

Something I've struggled with this year here is finding meaning in my work. The group of boys I work with is very privileged. Sometimes, going through the motions of everyday life with these boys has felt fruitless because the results are less tangible, but as the year has gone on and I've seen their growth and maturity, I've come to realize my own little role in guiding them along. I'll miss the boys. I think I've taught them a thing or two about the world and how to be better men; I hope so at least. Seeing success with these students, like in the Spring Festival event I organized for this week, has me so excited to be working with college students and hopefully making a difference in their lives.

I'm overjoyed to be going back to Rome and hopefully bringing myself up to fluency in Italian. It really does feel like a homecoming for me. Rome feels so familiar. So many of the things I aspire to in my life were born out of my time studying abroad there. The job is one that's been on my mind since that time, and it's a perfect start to a career in higher education, which is where I think I'm headed. I'm excited to see the familiar faces around the Rome center as well as making friends with the new folks. I have a perfect balance right now of living in the moment, realizing my time here is coming to an end, and joyful anticipation for the future.

Anyway, I suppose that's enough gushing for now. Everything works out for a reason they say, and I've experienced it. I'll be back to the States on June 30, and I want to see everyone before I go. Open up your schedules! Congratulations to my big sis and her fiancée Nick! So happy for you both. Thanks for reading!

Roadtrip, etc.

This evening, I returned from a week long Korean adventure. We started in Seoul for a few days, drove to Busan down the east coast of the peninsula, stayed there for a few days, then drove back to Seoul to fly back to Jeju. It was a road trip of epic proportions, on which I was joined by the Michael Chu. I shall now briefly chronicle my experiences.

The trip began last Sunday, March 22, 2015. We thought our flight was scheduled for the late afternoon, so we headed to the airport a few hours early, hoping to grab dinner there. When we arrived and went to check in, the kind and very confused woman behind the Eastarjet counter informed us that our flight was booked from Seoul to Jeju instead of the other, more correct way. The return flight, too, was scheduled for the opposite direction. This began a several hour long emotional, physical, and psychological roller coaster. It reminded me of the stages of grieving you learn in Psychology 101. At first, we just couldn't believe our stupidity, and we laughed quite a bit, and started to consider options to get to Seoul. We put ourselves on standby at a rather hefty price, and waited for an opening on a flight, since all of the flights for the entire night to Seoul were full. We went downstairs to 7/11, bought a beer each, and sat and waited for the first flight. The first flight came and went with no space for us. We then realized that we could be in for a long evening. Both of our moods worsened, and we grew quiet, considering the prospect of spending a night in the Jeju airport. The next flight came, and they had one spot. We considered going separately, but decided to stick together. We were still pretty sour, and we decided to grab some Dunkin Donuts for a snack/energy. This was the first of far too many trips to Dunkin on this trip. The third flight came, and luckily, they had a spot for us! We got our tickets and sprinted to the gate, nabbing two seats next to each other, and finally we were on our way.

It's funny now to think that all of this happened before we even got on our way. We felt a little bit doomed. It seemed like a bad omen for the rest. There were a few more hiccups, but nothing too major. We made it to Seoul and got some Mexican food, had a few drinks, and hit the hay. The following day, we met up with Kathleen and Greta from KIS, as well as Kathleen's friend Tammy. We spent the day and evening with them, which was lots of fun. We went to bed in anticipation of the Demilitarized Zone tour the next day.

It's been several days since the tour, and I'm still processing it. It was unreal in every way. The tour began with the news that there was a large fire in the DMZ, so a portion of the tour had to be cancelled. We missed out on the tunnels built underneath the DMZ as well as one of the observation decks. At first, this seemed like another blow to the trip, but it turned out to be an incredible tour regardless. We began at an observation deck looking over into North Korea. There was several little farming huts along the river, and through the binoculars, we saw some North Korean citizens working in the fields. Michael and I talked quite a bit at this point in the tour about what life could be like for the North Koreans. Those people could easily see the highway across the river. They had to know that not everyone lives like they do. The poverty was pretty noticeable in the rundown and abandoned buildings we could see. It started a day full of a lot of pondering.

We then visited the site of a train bridge that goes through the DMZ into North Korea. There was a train salvaged from the DMZ after the Korean War that was preserved in its original state. It used to run North-South through the whole united peninsula. It was covered in bullet holes and torn to shreds. If that's not a microcosm for the way things turned out, I don't know what is. We then visited the last train station before the North, a completely operational station that is never used. It was kind of eerie to see the same turnstiles and ticket machines you use in Seoul, but to know that they are never used.

The crown jewel of the tour was a trip to the Joint Security Area, the actual line between North and South Korea. We drove to Camp Boniface, the UN base on the South side where US and Korean soldiers were based (I assume as well as others). A soldier came onto our bus and checked all of our passports. He then briefed us on what we would be doing, and reiterated to us that we could only use our cameras when he said so. We drove through the DMZ's defenses: a wall of C4 for blowing up vehicles, barbed wire entrenchments with land mines, and spacious fields farmed by a small village in the DMZ. The village had under 200 inhabitants, and it was only inhabited by those alive at the time of the schism or direct descendants of those people. We drove to the Joint Security Area, and went from the bus into a large glass building. We were put into 2 single file lines and lined up on the inner steps of the building. The soldier told us that we would be under constant surveillance by North Korea when we stepped outside, so we were not to gesture, point, or do anything else that could possibly by used by North Korea as propaganda against the UN Security Forces. We then filed through a set of glass doors to outside.

We were lined up on the steps outside, and suddenly there it was. There were several little blue buildings sitting on the Military Demarcation Line (the MDL, the border between North and South), and the line was clearly visible as a concrete slab. Eight or nine soldiers stood on the South side, and there was one North Korean soldier standing on the stoop of the building on the North side. He seemed very uncomfortable, as he couldn't stand still. The soldier told us that they call him Bob, and it's always him or one other guy on duty there. The South Korean soldiers were the most intimidating humans I have ever seen. They stood in bulldog poses with dark sunglasses, and we were told not to step behind or in front of them. A woman made that mistake, and she was quickly moved back to the side by the soldier. It was the swiftest karate chop movement I have ever seen. The American soldier then informed us that all of the South Korean border guards are blackbelts in either judo or tae kwon do.

We were led into one of the small blue buildings which houses diplomatic discussions between the North and South. There were a few tables, two guards, and a door leading to the North. The MDL passes right through the house, so we technically stood in North Korea when we went to the other side of the building. We stood around for a while and took pictures, were lined up, and led back away. We were then put back on the bus and driven to the site of the ax murder and the bridge of no return. Then we went on the bus and drove back to Seoul. It was all kind of a whirlwind.

The JSA was the most intense thing I have ever been a part of. It felt like at any moment, someone making a wrong move could set off a fire fight. You could feel the tension in the air between North and South, and the American soldier's nonchalant demeanor seemed out of place. I asked him if he felt uneasy taking groups around, and he said no, that it had just become his daily life. It was indescribably surreal and tense. The more I thought about it, the dumber it felt. A stupid concrete slab marking an arbitrary line stands between families, countrymen, and peace. It sparked a lot of thinking, that's for sure.

The following day, we got the car and headed for Busan. The drive along the east coast was beautiful and very relaxing. We jammed out all day and stopped a few times to look at the beach or other random things. We made it to Busan to find that the AirBnB we booked was the penthouse of a swanky apartment complex (the 47th floor), and we lived in style for two days. In Busan, we checked out markets, the beach, and met up with my friend Nick from Loyola who is teaching in Busan. We also ate sannakgi, the most inhumanely disgusting thing I have ever seen. It's octopus sashimi, and it's still moving and writhing and sticking to the plate as you try to eat it. I forced myself to try one bite. Michael ate the whole plate and enjoyed it. Never again.

We drove back up to Seoul, stopping at an awesome cherry blossom festival in the mountains along the way, and spent two days with Kathleen and Tammy, did some shopping, and flew back here to Jeju. It was an incredible trip, and I started to feel some serious anxiety about leaving this country in a few months. The drive was stunning. The people are great. The country is just a good place. I got back to Jeju tonight, and it was clear and warm. The stars were out and the moon was shining brightly. I will definitely miss it here. I suppose that's part of life though. You leave a little piece of your heart in each place you grow accustomed to. I've got a few months left including a trip to Nepal and a trip to Australia, and I intend to make the most of it.

That's about all I have for now. Thanks for reading, folks, and be in touch!

Tokyo, Hiroshima, and Miyajima

Today, I returned from almost a week in Japan, and it was a much needed break from the craziness of working in a middle school! I almost missed my flight this morning because I had the time wrong, and I made it to the gate as boarding was starting. I'm tired as I work my night shift tonight, but it was one of the best weeks I've had in quite a while. I'll summarize some of what I wrote in my journal below.

2/21/15, Tokyo
Tokyo has been a lot of fun with MJ and Ice. We visited the fish market, saw Harajuku street, ate lots of sashimi, and in general just kind of wandered the city. It's been nice having some companionship, but I'm looking forward to the days alone to clear my head and recharge. Last night, I hung out in the hotel bar when we got back and had some long-awaited Blanton's bourbon and bought a box of Cuban cigars. It was a great treat for myself, but not so much for my wallet.

2/22/15, Hiroshima
What a surreal day. The photos of charred bodies and shadows of people literally vaporized into thin air were too much to handle. Photos of fat dripping off of people's fingers as they melted and blood boiling up under the skin of people unfortunate enough to survive for only a few hours or days after the explosion. Radiation still killing people decades later. I wonder if the rest of the world thinks Truman is a war criminal. I'm sure the Japanese do. How could they not? I am certainly thinking that right now. Not to say that Japan didn't do their own messed up stuff in World War II, but I've never seen anything quite like this. Just complete and utter disregard for other humans. It's so sad that it's been reduced to a number, and more so how insane that number is. It was striking to see all the photos of the dead at the exhibit. It was 150,000 people instantly dying, but it was 150,000 individuals. They had mothers, fathers, siblings. They had friends. They played games and liked music. It's so sad to think of all they could have been, but instead we wiped out a whole city (two really) of civilians, and tried to claim it was justified. I think this day has been pretty life-changing.

2/23/15, Miyajima
I'd seen photos of the floating torii before, but I didn't know it was accessible from Hiroshima. Thankful I found out! I went with Alexis, a traveling Italian, Seamus, an Irishman, and a Korean girl whose name I butchered all day. You'd think after half a year living here, I would have pronunciation down for names. She was kind about it though, and she appreciated that I knew any Korean at all. That's one of the things I love about staying in hostels. It's a blast to meet random people and bop around with them. We climbed Mt. Misen and had a really cool view of the coast from the island. It was a tough hike, but well worth it. Then we took the cable car down and enjoyed a small dinner. I had a weird moment in the Miyajima train station today. It was like a split second where it hit me how lucky I am and how unreal it was that I was in Hiroshima. Everyone learns about it, but how many people are fortunate enough to go? I felt sure of myself, which felt good. It was like a weird butterfly in my stomach that came and went quickly.

2/24/15, Tokyo
I had the same feeling today where I realized how ridiculous it was that I was walking the streets of Tokyo amidst beautiful temples and cherry trees. I passed on going up in the SkyTree because it was so expensive. It was too early to see cherry blossoms, but I saw the buds, so I guess that counts for something, right? It occurred to me that I've developed Asian eating habits as I slurped my noodles with freight train volume and ferocity tonight. I'll have to reign that in if I ever want to eat Chinese food in the States around other humans. I really like the symbol of paper cranes from the exhibit at Hiroshima. The Sadako Sasaki story is pretty cool. Maybe a paper crane tattoo? Back to work tomorrow. Going to be a ridiculously long day, and back to workplace drama and all of that jazz. Only a short while 'til spring break!

It was an incredible trip! Pictures are up on Facebook. Thanks for reading.